


Have You Ever Been Punched By A Mage?

by SassyOrlesian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyOrlesian/pseuds/SassyOrlesian
Summary: A prompt in the tags of the popular post "Cullen got his scar from being punched in the face with an armored fist" and a picture of Hawke below it made me do this.The tag was #points if it tingles when they come to Skyhold





	

Cullen wouldn’t say he has any special powers to sense certain people, despite the Inquisitor’s insistence that he did.

 _“How else would you know that was Samson from two miles away, up a mountain, at night?”_ They asked. He didn’t really have an answer for that one, other than he was suddenly sure it was him. Maybe the stink of desperation and sewage in the air?

Either way, Cullen wasn’t any sort of mage. His instincts were good, and that was all.

So a few days after they had arrived at Skyhold, when he felt his scar tingling, he thought nothing of it at first. That was until Varric mentioned a friend who could help them with Corypheus, and Leliana said something about Cassandra being angry when she found out who it was.

No, it couldn’t be, could it?

Despite Varric’s account of _“The Tale of the Champion”,_ Hawke didn’t leave Kirkwall as gracefully as everyone was led to believe. No, Hawke could never depart from anywhere without as dramatic of an exit as possible. That was just the sort of person she was.

_The smoldering husk of Meredith stood in the middle of the courtyard for a few moments as everyone collectively caught their breath. Hawke’s companions helping each other gain their bearings as the Champion herself stood above the red lyrium statue, face twisted in thought. The remaining Templars in the courtyard looked at her warily, and Cullen held up a hand for them to stay, waiting for what Hawke would do next._

_She twirled her staff, relaxing out of a combat stance, and as if on queue, everyone let out a breath; until Hawke fixed her bright eyes on him, a righteous anger burning in them. He straightened up, his hand still resting on his sword as the Champion stomped up to him, stopping barely a foot away._

_"You waited until the_ last _possible moment to call Meredith out on her bullshit, didn’t you?“ she said, voice tight with rage._

_"Champion, I-”_

_“I don’t want to hear your excuses, you know how many mages died tonight.”_

_He wouldn’t let Hawke’s anger get the best of him, he wouldn’t, “I didn’t blow up the Chantry, unlike your_ friend _.”_

 _That didn’t make the situation better, he found, as Hawke grit her teeth. He could sense her magic crackling in the air, and he was prepared to drain her if she cast against him. "_ Perhaps _Anders wouldn’t have felt compelled to commit such an act if the one of the only people who could have removed her from power stepped in sooner?“_

 _”_ Perhaps _he wouldn’t have blown up the Chantry if you kept a closer eye on your pet-“_

_What he was expecting was Hawke trying to roast him in his armor, what he wasn’t expecting was the Champion to wind her gauntleted arm back and punch him square in the mouth with force he wouldn’t have expected from a mage. Cullen’s head snapped to the side and he could immediately taste blood, and for a moment he was just stunned, and a bit impressed. He heard the sounds of dozens of swords being pulled from their sheaths and Hawke’s Dalish companion gasping what he believed was a curse, not the magic kind. He spat out blood before standing up straight again._

_"Hold! Templars, hold!” He shouted, looking at Hawke again, whose eyes were flicking between his face and her hand like she couldn’t quite believe she’d just done that._

_“Er… I should probably go…" She said, gesturing vaguely behind her._

_"That would probably be best.” He agreed, wincing as moving his lips sent searing pain through his face._

_Hawke gave him and the other Templars one last fleeting glance before turning around, walking swiftly out of the courtyard with her companions in tow._

_Moments later he realized that there were no mages left in the vicinity to go to for healing. This would leave a scar._

Later that day he was walking through the Courtyard, a few missives tucked under his arm as he made his way back to his office, he heard a voice call out that confirmed his suspicions.

“Hey Cullen! Not being a Templar working out well for you, I hope?” He couldn’t help the flinch as he turned around to see Hawke with her smug half grin leaning against the Tavern, just as he remembered her.

He grimaced, the tingling in his lip almost becoming numbing as she stepped closer. “Oh… nice scar, really adds to the whole rugged broody look." She said, that damnable grin never leaving her face. "And I’m somewhat an expert in that field, believe me.”

He brought a hand to his mouth, still frowning, “It’s never… tingled like this before, Hawke. It started I think when you arrived at Skyhold. Were your gauntlets enchanted? I didn’t feel you cast a spell…”

Hawke blinked in confusion, the smugness leaving her face for a moment before she burst out laughing. “Oh! Oh Maker, that’s bloody brilliant!” she gasped in between guffaws. He didn’t find this as funny as she did, and people were starting to stare.

“Hawke, if this is a curse of some sort, I’d _appreciate_ it if you would undo it.” That only made her laugh harder, so he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for her to get it out of her system.

A good fifteen seconds later, she finally wiped her eyes, looking up at his face that was flushed with indignation. “I think it probably has to do with me being a mage, and my magic being uncontrolled at the time, but I hope you can believe me when I say I have no idea what happened.” He narrowed his eyes as she stifled another giggle, but there was no lie in her surprise.

“So I take it that means you have no idea how to make it stop.” He said, voice flat with displeasure.

She snorted at that, shaking her head. “Not a clue!” He didn’t think he could frown further, and yet here she was, making him learn new things about himself.

“It’s hilarious! You had a built in Hawke tracking device all along, and the fact that you used to be a Templar just adds to the irony!” She laughed yet again, and he decided that this conversation was over.

Cullen started walking away, and he groaned inwardly when he passed her and she muttered under her breath, “I _cannot_ wait to tell Varric.”


End file.
